Love is as Good as Soma
by Phobos Synagogue
Summary: When love is like a hallucigen nothing is as expected. A Stanley Coleman and Heather Mason story


Title: Love is as Good as Soma chapter 1

Summary: An AU fiction. Stanley Coleman is stalking Heather. What if Leonard had not killed Stanley? What if Heather was to meet Stanley face to face?

Author's notes: Originally this story was going to be a one shot fiction. As it progressed though; I decided to make it deeper. This story is dedicated to all you fans that wanted a Heather and Stanley scenario.

"Love is as Good as Soma" is a song by Tiamat

_I wanna crush all bones in you Cause I've got nothing better to you Well, I'm no son of Aquarius I think the world is too small for both of us And your friends and all your sister too Let the world spin like the lovers do Let the angels fly free tonight For the devil's kiss, the deadly snakebite_

Heather stood at the hallway of the 3rd floor. All the doors to the left side were marked with an S followed by a number. "The doctor's memo stated that Stanley was being kept in room S4, and Leonard was in room S12." Heather whispered to herself, "I really don't want to go in room S4. Something's compelling me to go in there." Heather continued whispering to herself as she crept slowly across the hallway to room S4.

Once she reached the door to said room she took a deep breath. "Get a hold of yourself Heather. This man probably doesn't even exist, really how can I man leave so many notes and not be seen?"

Then she remembered the riddle she had found. One written by Stanley describing in detail what he'd do to her should they meet.

I thrust my thumb into your eye socket.

Heather gave out a whimper, imagining the pain of her eye being stabbed out. She shuddered and nearly got sick at the thought of this, but because her stomach was empty the only thing she would have been able to produce was bile. She shook off the negative feeling, and decided that if Stanley should be in this room she could just run away. No, that wouldn't be a good idea. Didn't stalkers get off on chasing their victims? "Oh, fuck!" Heather gave out an exasperated sigh.

Maybe Stanley would just kill her, and then she could be with her father again. The memory of her father's slain body slumped over in the recliner caused tears to trickle down her face. A minute later she composed herself and wiped her eyes with her wristbands. "Get a hold of yourself Heather. Now is not the time to be crying, you have to find Claudia and find away to destroy this God inside of you."

After regaining her composure she placed her hand on the knob of room S4 and turned the handle, slowly pushing the door open. She stepped inside the room, and surveyed it. White walls, a window with bars blocking the way for escape. Inside the room was a single bed covered in a white blanket and sheets, and on top of this bed was a figure sitting on the edge of the bed. His body bent over a journal as he vigorously wrote something in it. Sitting next to him was the doll that Stanley had been leaving for Heather. The doll that looked really similar to Alessa. Heather knew then, that this was Stanley Coleman.

All right, she had seen Stanley, now what? Kill him? No, she couldn't kill another human being. Even if he was going to do some unspeakable things to her she still couldn't kill him. She slowly turned around to exit the room.

"Not so fast!" A loud booming voice rang out.

Heather turned around slowly, soon making eye contact with Stanley. She could now see him completely. His features were devilish and grungy looking. His hair a dark brown in color appeared to be unwashed as it reached just a little above his shoulders. His skin was pale, almost translucent. On his chin grew a small beard, above his thin smiling lips sat a mustache. His eyes sparkled a blue color with something in them that could only be described as a mix of evil thoughts, love, and happiness.

Heather let out a small squeak. Stanley stood up from his bed, and it became apparent that he was a good 6" taller than Heather. The memo made it seem like Stanley would have been a scrawny guy, but she could tell that even under his clothes was a well-worked body. She watched as Stanley stepped closer to her, his eyes never leaving her eyes.

"Oh, Heather, I knew that soon you would come to see me. I knew that if I persisted I would get my wish, that my dream would come true. To think that, that bastard Leonard tried to stop me. Don't mistake Heather; of course he tried to keep me from seeing you. Silly man though, he thought he could step in the way of destiny." Stanley stated with glee, as he giggled obscenely at a few parts.

Heather gulped as Stanley stepped closer to her; his smell reaching her nostrils. Surprisingly he didn't smell bad at all. He almost smelled..

"You like it Heather?" Stanley asked.

Heather gave out a yelp, "H-h-how did you?"

Stanley quickly cut her off with a single sentence "Sit down on my bed Heather. We have a lot to discuss." Stanley pointed at his bed; he watched as Heather nervously took a seat on the edge of the bed and began tapping her foot nervously.

"Heather, why must you be so nervous around me? Ahh, but I remember how fragile you were. I know how scared you've been before, and how scared you are now." Stanley sat next to Heather, inching close to her.

"What the hell are you doing? Why are you claiming to know all these lies about me?" Heather asked with that sardonic tone in her voice.

Stanley looked at Heather for a moment. He reached over to his treasured doll that he had made for Heather, and began playing with it. He would move the arms up and down, and make the doll do jumping motions. Heather watched in both disbelief and amusement as Stanley started giggling like a teenage boy who had seen a female nipple. It was as if Stanley were in his own little dream world. Heather decided that maybe now would be the best time to leave the room. She slowly rose from the bed…

…only to be pulled back down by a strong pull from Stanley. "Heather, please don't run away." Stanley said matter of fact.

Heather sighed, and grumbled something inaudible.

"You know Heather, if you need to say something just say it. Don't go grumbling incoherencies around me. That's what I abhor about 99 of the wenches of the world. They say something insulting, and when you ask what they said they deny saying anything. You Heather are different however; you're a God. You are perfection my dear sweet Heather."

Heather looked at Stanley, and then snapped, "What the hell are you doing? I came to this hospital to find Leonard Wolf so he could tell me something about Claudia. I don't have time to be having a nice lovely chat with some stalker."

Stanley looked hurt. He rose from his bed and looked out the window. A stream of sunlight was pouring in through the window. "Sometimes I look at the sun everyday and pray for my salvation. Each day I prayed for you to rescue me from here; they think I'm crazy. " Stanley turned around to face Heather who had her arms folded across her chest and a scowl on her face. "Heather I'm not crazy. Not compared to the other patients like Leonard. That agnatic moron believes he's this divine guardian of some seal. The Seal of Metatron if I remember correctly." Stanley stated.

He pulled out the said seal from his pocket and handed it to Heather. Heather took the seal, "How did you get this?" she asked.

"Heather, here in this hospital it's kill or be killed. Leonard got a little ticked off at me and tried stabbing me with a blade. He didn't count on me still wanting to live though, and I overpowered him. Used his weapon against him. From what I understand now he's underground and his new name is #7.

Heather looked at the Seal and then at Stanley. "Umm, thank you Stanley. It really means a lot that you'd get this for me." Heather said with less bitterness in her voice.

"I want you to stay Heather. Save me from this place, I hate it here." Stanley looked at Heather with a pleading look in his eye.

Heather looked at Stanley. Either she could stay and hope that he didn't do as his poem suggested, or she could leave him alone to wallow in his despair.

"Did you write that poem?" Heather asked.

Stanley's head shot up, "What poem?"

Heather looked at Stanley with a moment of confusion. "There was a poem written a few halls back. It was saying how the person wanted to destroy me, eat my face." Stanley started giggling. "It's not funny!" Heather yelled at him.

Stanley's giggles turned into laughter. Soon his laughter caused him to bend over at the stomach, and crash to the floor. His laughs became tighter and louder, his face was turning red and tears were streaming down his face.

"You fucking asshole, that's not funny!" She cried.

"You actually think I want to eat your face?" Stanley stopped laughing for a moment.

"Well you are pretty crazy, leaving those diaries for me to read, and that doll." Heather sighed. She looked down at Stanley who had gained his composure. His dark brown mahogony hair tickled his forehead and the sides of his face. His blues eyes so dark, almost black appeared to be tearing into her soul. Come to think of it he was rather good looking. "Oh no I can't become attracted to this psycho stalker." Heather thought to herself. She looked down at Stanley who continued to stare into her. "I still have to kill this God inside of me." Heather was trying to find a reason to get out of there, and to get her hormones in check, and maybe a place to wipe off the accumilating moisture that was dripping from between her legs. She got up from the bed and walked towards the door, her hand started to turn the knob.

"Heather, I know a way you can destroy the God, and see your father again." Stanley stated this while he stood up, and lightly grabbed Heather's hand. She turned to face him, "How do you know about my father?"

"I know you, I've always known you, Alessa." Stanley stated somewhat coldly. Heather let out a small gasp of shock, just enough for her to turn and face Stanley. His eyes locked with hers, a stream of memories came flooding back to her. She remembered being Alessa, she remembered a young boy in the cult always trying to approach her, holding with him a doll. She remembered not seeing him, too wrapped in her own nightmarish pitiful dillusions to notice him, to notice his hurt. Her mind snapped back to the present. The doll, it was the same one that Stanley had been trying to give to her now. She looked down at the floor, "I'm sorry, I didn't, remember."

"It's ok Heather." Stanley replied.

"Thankyou."

"For what?" He asked.

"For not calling me Alessa." Heather had come to the harsh realization that she had been Alessa, and that now she was her reincarnation, born of unnatural means, created from only the manifistation of Alessa's soul. Just because Alessa was her, and she was Alessa didn't mean she should have to re-live her past. She wouldn't go through that pain again. Besides she had another pain to deal with. The loss of her father. Just thinking about it brought tears to her eyes.

When Stanley saw Heather trying to conceal her tears he crawled across the floor to her. "It's ok, you can cry Heather." Stanley spoke softly.

Heather started to cry, this time allowing the tears to flow freely. She didn't seem to notice when a pair of arms cradled her, pressing her against a soft abit cloud of warmth. She allowed Stanley to hold her, and he allowed her to soak his shirt with her tears. "Shhh, shh shhh. It's ok Heather, I'm here and nothing can get you." He consoled her, much like her father would. Except Stanley wasn't her father.

Heather stopped crying and looked at Stanley once more. "You said I could see my father again?"

"Yes, I know a way. I know a place that is more beautiful than here." Stanley told her.

Heather was too tired to say anything against this. Right now she just wanted to be held, to sleep, to feel him inside of her. Damn, where did that thought come from. Get a hold of yourself, he's crazy. No use though, she felt another thick stream of moisture crawl down her legs, and evidently Stanley noticed it too, she was practically sitting in his lap, her legs had found themselves splayed open slightly. He looked into her eyes, then at her mouth, and then to her eyes again. Heather saw this, the attention she was getting, and it was making her feel rather vulnerable. She felt his body, pushing hers against the wall, his arms locked on each side of her hips. She knew the ineventable was coming, and despite the memory of that diary she wanted him inside of her...

The two stared at each other for a moment before Stanley took the initiative. He leaned foward kissing Heather on the lips, but no tongue was used just yet. Heather at this point was more than open to him. She opened her mouth just slightly, allowing Stanley's tongue to snake its way inside of her mouth. Tongues were overlapping, and each mouth was playing a bizarre ritual with the other. Stanley started to undo the zipper from Heather's vest, slowly allowing the fabric to peel off of her. Both ran out of air causing them to release from each other.

Stanley looked at Heather, her figure nicely accented with that skirt and the orange shirt she was wearing. The two were still sitting up right next to each other, as it was now Stanley had to place them somewhere else. He grabbed Heather abruptly from the wall and shoved her down on the ground; she let out a small cry of protest, but he silenced that with another deep kiss. His hands roamed her entire body searching for something, anything. He peeled off her shirt leaving her in only a simple white cotton bra and her skirt. The last thing he wanted to do was rush this, he had been waiting for this for a long time. To rush it would be nonsense, this was something he had wanted since Alessa was mature, he had waited 17 long years for this. All the dreams, the notes, the tearfelt nights and the abuse would not be for vain. He would do this right...

Heather meanwhile in her mind was a little scared. That was an understatement; she wanted him now, but the whole idea made her skin crawl. She was laying on a hospital floor half naked, moisture seeping out of her nether region, waiting for of all people her stalker to take her. Hell, maybe Vincent, or Douglas, or even her dad would have been a better choice. Heather made a mental face to herself, the idea of being with those three just squicked her out. So why was Stanley more appealing? Then another memory hit her.

17 years ago

Alessa though in real life was confined physically to a bed, was in her mind free to do whatever. Ignorance is bless they would say. On this particular day she saw a young man her age sitting on a bench. "How did you get here?" Alessa asked

The boy looked up. "Stanley? Stanley Coleman?" Alessa asked somewhat happy, but trying to hide it.

"Yeah, I'm sorry Alessa, please don't hurt me." The young Stanley said meekly.

Alessa just smiled, only she could bring people to her world, and she wanted Stanley there.

end flashback

"Heather? Yoo hoo, Heather!" A voice called out.

Heather awoke from her trance and looked at Stanley, "Stan, you know I'm Alessa's reincarnation right?"

"Yes I know." Stanley nodded.

"And that you loved Alessa alot." Heather continued

"Heather you are Alessa; I love you and I love Alessa. I love both of you as one." Stanley explained in an excited breath.

The two looked at each other, just looking at each other with content. Heather finally spoke up "Stan, can we do this on the bed? Please?"

"Yeah." Stanley picked Heather up from the floor and carried her two steps to the bed and then laid her down gently before positioning himself on top of her.

It's going to happen, it's really going to happen, Heather thought silently. Stanley and Alessa would be able to do the one thing they had always wanted to do, become one with each other in body and soul. The next few moments for Heather were a blur. She could feel Stanley struggling with his shirt and pants, she could feel his weight on her again, smell his scent that enticing but unfamiliar scent. She felt a warm mouth placing itself between the burrow of her neck and shoulder and kissing, licking, sucking on that part. She felt large hands pull her bra up so that they may massage her small breasts. Those same hands then moved to her thighs, gently pushing her legs apart; fingers petting just outside Heather's area causing her to squirm, moan and plead for him to stop the torture.

Stanley took the message to heart, because after all he didn't want to hurt his savior, his lover. He kissed Heather on the mouth before finally entering himself into her. He did not go in easily and this caused Heather to let out a loud cry.

"It hurts! I can't do it, please stop." The young girl pleaded, feeling like she was about to be ripped in two.

Stanley pulled out, "Are you sure you want me to stop? I can make it less painful for you." The man said stroking her blonde hair and staring deep into her eyes.

"No, don't stop. Please be gentle though." Heather pleaded.

Alessa had always been sensitive even in her older incarnation. Stanley repositioned himself and this time entered Heather slower allowing her to accomidate his size. It worked; she was stretching to fit around him allowing him to enter her inch by inch until finally he was all the way in. Slowly he pulled out only to enter her again. Him holding her hips for leverage and her holding on to his waste. The repeated motion continued from slow to frantic, blood rushing from here to there, two differant mouths nuzzling two differant necks. Both were about to bring each other to that state of Nirvana; they were so close almost to that place. They could smell it, taste it, hear it, see it, and touch it. All the senses were on overload...

And then Stanley reached his Nirvana letting out a loud grunt he spilled himself into Heather, but doing his best to bring her to his place. When all seemed in vain, Heather finally reached the point where Stanley was. She tremored violently, clutching onto him fearing that she could be lost to the abyss. At last the two bodies were calm, Heather falling into a blessful sleep. Stanley kissed her forehead, and moved just slightly. He reached his hand underneath the sheets and pulled out a butterfly knife. With a quick flick of his wrist, Heather and Alessa were free. Then by his own hand he was free too.

Epilogue

"Vincent, shouldn't Heather be back now?" Claudia asked.

"She should be, but you know Heather. She's probaly taking her sweet time, torturing and deriving pleasure from killing your fellow cult members." Vincent smirked as he pushed his glasses up.

Claudia glared at him, "When paradise comes Vincent, God will look at you and tell you: Depart from me ye cursed."

Vincent just rolled his eyes, Claudia let out an exasperated sigh. In a moment a cult member knocked on the door. Claudia opened the door allowing a short man in brown jeans, no shoes and no shirt to enter. "What is it?" Claudia asked.

"It's about Heather, she's dead Claudia."

Claudia looked shocked, and even Vincent looked perplexed. "Will why didn't Valtiel rebirth her? That's his job! That stupid moron always doing his best to complicate his job." Claudia exclaimed almost to the brink of tears. Paradise for her was now lost.

"Claudia, Heather was killed by human hands, not by those of monsters." The man told Claudia.

And she knew her dream was over, all that she had lived for gone. The paradise she had long dreamed for would not arrive.

Meanwhile...

Heather woke up on a grassy knoll, "Mmm, how the hell did I get here? What happened?" She looked around and gasped as she saw her father "Dad? Dad!" She ran to her father Harry Mason who collected her in his arms. "Oh, dad, I missed you so much!" Heather cried.

"I missed you too Heather." Harry said, so happy that his daughter was with him.

Heather looked around and to her right spotted Stanley and Alessa holding each other in pure bliss. For the first time in their lives Stanley and Alessa were truly happy with and were free from the pain and suffering of earth.

Was this soma? Heather thought to herself.  
No, this was real. This was paradise, and this was real.

Love is as good as Soma.

End. 


End file.
